Silver Bracers
by guyMatte
Summary: What happens when a Companion and a Herald dies? Let's find out.


Silver Bracers, by Guy Matte

A Valdemar short story, intellectual property of Mercedes Lackey

Raulin Kyngeston had one hell of a headache. Being in a warm and comfortable cot was a vast improvement on his sleeping condition of the last two weeks. He was a Herald, and as such, had various duties to perform, regardless of weather or fatigue.

Astride his companion Kiniel, he had traveled along the steep mountains in the north of the realm. They had rushed from one village to the next, helping to keep rivers in their beds, and at one time, to divert a flash flood that threatened to engulf a town. Now, the pair of them, tired and so dirty that the shiny white coat of Kiniel looked more like a patchwork of grey and brown, were on their way back to the Castle for a well-deserved rest. At least, that was the plan.

They were following a serpentine path along the flank of the Sarkior Mountains when they suddenly heard a tremendous thunderclap and found themselves pelted with rocks and mud. Quite probably a mudslide caused by the incessant rain of the last two weeks. He was just relieved that they had been found by kind people who tended to his injuries and probably those of his companion as well. Thinking back to the accident, Raulin had the weirdest memory. The young herald could have sworn he had heard the Death Bell back in Valdemar.

Opening his eyes, Raulin felt the grandfather of all headhaches building from the smaller one he had felt before. Still, he could not stay in bed. He had to check on Kiniel, who tended to gorge herself with wheat whenever she had the chance. Reaching for her with his mind, he froze: instead of her comforting presence, there was only void. Gasping, he lurched out of bed. Or tried to but was too weak to do so. A voice to his right called to him: - Easy friend, try not to break your neck and stay in bed like me. Be patient. We are still recovering after all and we should take it easy, for now.

In a cot just like his rested a woman well into her fifties. She had shining silver hair, a white dress and the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen except for Kiniel. His Kiniel. The thought of having lost her was more than he could bear. With a voice hoarse with unshed tears, he asked:

- Pray tell me lady, do you know of a white horse? A companion? She and I were going  
>back home when we got caught in a mudslide. I... I really need to know that she is well.<p>

- Rest easy young herald. For your companion is truly well. On my life I swear to you.

- But I can't feel her!

The anguish in his voice was so raw that the lady rose to her feet and went to him. Tenderly, she took his hands between hers. Her hands were warm and soft and held his tightly. They were a balm to his fear and loss. He calmed somewhat.

- Oh my dearest. How I wish things were different but they are not. Here we are and we must do with what faith has dealt us.

Raulin frowned. The lady's voice sounded like Kiniel's but was at the same time, different. He was about to say so when a door in the far wall of the room opened on a man. He was in his mid-forties, wore brown leather pants, a white shirt and a deep blue vest with silver buttons that reflected the firelight. On his brow rested a simple white gold circlet. He took a seat behind a table and opened a bag, from which he took out silver bracers. He then bided the woman to approach. Before complying, she kissed Raulin's brow and hugged him. The man bowed his head slightly to her and asked in a deep rich voice:

- What is your wish?

- You already know my Lord.

- Are you sure? You could take a well-deserved rest. You have done more than your share. You could avoid the pain that each new loss brings you.

- And leave the realm? No my liege, I think not.

- As you wish.

Taking the bracers, he solemnly clasped them on her arms. Turning her head towards a puzzled Raulin, she smiled and exited through the door. The man turned his eyes on the young man and, with a kind smile and a hand gesture, invited him to take a seat at the table.

- How are you faring young man?

- Not well, sir. I can no longer feel my companion and I fear for her and for the people that we have to protect. Although, if I have to be honest, I fear most for Kiniel. When can I see her? And when can we get back to the Castle? We have a lot of work to do.

The man smiled a sad smile and looked Raulin over. The anguish in his eyes was genuine and he truly felt for his lost Companion and for his duties. Now was the time to give him peace of mind.

- I admire your devotion young man, but now is time to let go of the past. Your companion left you moments ago. You both died in the landslide that caught you unawares. You now have two choices: you can either seek rest for all eternity in heaven. Or – he then put two silver bracers on the table – you can put these on and become a companion yourself.

The bracers, made of the purest silver, depicted scenes of Heralds and Companions of the past giving their life for the realm. One of the most preeminent was of Vanyel Ashkevron and his companion Yfandes. When hit together, they produced the unmistakable chime of the companion's hooves.

Raulin was speechless. Him? A companion? Was the lady that left just moments ago truly his dearest Kiniel? Could he be like her? Was he not too young and inexperienced to guide a young-herald-to-be and help him? And more importantly, who was this man offering him this chance?

As if reading his mind, the man smiled and spoke again:

- You have demonstrated more than your share of bravery, selflessness and devotion. All qualities that Heralds should have. But more importantly, you gave your life helping your people without asking for anything else in return. Qualities that many young heralds will be happy to share with a trusted companion. You could be one you know. You have the kind of heart and soul that will warm the young ones. As a companion, you will know much that you did not as a herald. And most if not all of it will remain a secret from your herald. You will have to guide your herald, always balancing freedom of thoughts and iron control. But most of all, you will have to be a true friend. Then again, you have deserved your rest Raulin Kyngeston, Herald of the Realm.

- Who are you my lord?

- You know who I am.

- Do I?

- I am King Valdemar.

A deep silence welcomed the revelation. Although he had had his suspicions, Raulin couldn't feel awed, he was still too upset. He was dead, so was his companion. Moreover, she had left him in the afterlife. And now, he was expected to take everything in stride, facing the fable king who had been instrumental in the creation of the Herald and their companions. Feeling lost and small, Raulin bowed his head, pondering the offer, thinking harder that he had ever done. What should he do? Should he put on the bracers? He had heard the king offer rest to Kiniel, and she had declined. What about doing some more good? Somehow, it felt right. After all, 27 springs were too few to really do some good in one's life. He could rest later. Raising his head, he looked the king in the eyes and without saying anything, took the bracers.

The king bowed his head and behind him, the door opened. It was the woman in her fifties.

- Well, what took you so long?

- Kiniel?

- Who else? Now I will have to help you and your herald! But I guess it means that we will have more time together, dearest.

The door closed and the old king chuckled. These two would bear watching, he thought while all around him the room slowly dissolved to nothingness.

Silver Bracers by Guy Matte is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


End file.
